


dusk till dawn

by Engineer104



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anniversary, Beaches, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last person Jean expected to see riding a shitty bicycle up a steep hill was Eren.</p>
<p>Or, the beach is not that happy of a place for Eren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dusk till dawn

**Author's Note:**

> why am i still awake
> 
> i literally wrote this in an hour and posted it right after  
> forgive me for ooc-ness and typos; point out mistakes please and thank you

It’s when Jean is driving up the steepest hill in the city that he sees a familiar figure on a bicycle.

They’re riding parallel to his car, more than halfway up the incline with Jean yards behind (although the gap is closing as he drives), a green beanie perched precariously on their head.  Only Jean can’t _actually_ tell the color, can’t tell it for the blinding sunlight framing the bicyclist and shrouding their features in shadows.

But Jean knows them, or rather, _him._

He slows down as he draws level to the biker and rolls down his car’s passenger window, and, ignoring the irritated honks of drivers behind him, shouts, “Eren?!”

The bicyclist rapidly turns his head towards Jean and takes a tumble, clearly startled, his bicycle skidding out of his control as he falls to the side.  Jean can hear him cursing even as he pulls over and steps out of his car.

“The fuck did you do that for?” Eren demands.  He sits up, stretching his arm and rubbing his shoulder where he landed, face scrunched up into a pained expression that can be called cute, at least for lack of a better word.

Jean bends down and picks the bicycle from where it fell, propping it up on its kickstand.  He ignores Eren’s question in favor of wondering, “Where were you going on this piece of shit?”

Eren stands slowly, holding himself at a tilt with one of his knees slightly bent.  He scowls and mutters, “Beach.”

Jean blinks at him.  “In _this_ weather?”  He crosses his arms, already feeling the bite of the wind and missing the shelter and heat of the car.

“I wasn’t planning on _swimming_ ,” Eren retorts, shrugging.  He tugs his beanie downwards, to better cover his reddening ears.  “Besides, the bay is gross and polluted; I wouldn’t swim there anyway.”

Jean snorts, unsurprised that Eren would bring up environmentalism even after falling from his bicycle.  “And you were planning to get there on a bike with a rusted chain?”

“Yes,” Eren says curtly.  He strides forward, limping slightly, and mounts his bicycle again.  “See you later.”  He kicks back the stand, one foot poised on the pedal, but turns his head around, brow furrowed with confusion, when Jean places a hand on his shoulder.  “What?”  He cocks his head to the side, as if to emphasize his question.

Jean sighs.  “Get in the car,” he commands.

“Why?” Eren demands, raising an eyebrow and scowling.  “So you can take me home?”

“Just get in the fucking car,” Jean fires back, annoyance pricking at him.  How Eren managed to incite all this _irritation_ in him is a mystery.

Well, _irritation_ is certainly not the only emotion that Eren can conjure from him.

Eren mumbles under his breath but, to Jean’s surprise, rolls his bicycle towards the car’s trunk.  He sets it inside gently before slamming the door (unnecessarily hard) and joining him in the front.

“I swear to everything you find precious, Jean,” Eren begins, tone hostile, “if you take me to Mikasa’s, I’m never fucking speaking to you again.”

“Wouldn’t that be a tragedy,” Jean counters, rolling his eyes, but Eren ignores him as he turns the key in the ignition.

Oddly enough, it _would_ actually be something of a tragedy, but Mikasa’s apartment is not Jean’s intended destination, so he does not have to worry about that.

Probably.

* * *

Jean stops at a sketchy Thai place on his way and buys dinner for himself and for Eren, partly out of the questionable kindness of his heart but also because he noticed the way his eyes seemed to linger longingly on every restaurant they passed.

When Jean hands him a carton of pad Thai, Eren says nothing, except to ask to trade his chopsticks for a fork.

(Jean laughs, but only until he realizes that Eren is being completely serious.)

And then Jean finds a rare instance of free parking near the wharf and together they walk along the bay, watching the sun drift closer and closer to the reddening horizon.

“So where were _you_ going?” Eren wonders, kicking a rock out of his path.  He still favors one foot and winces every few paces, and it makes Jean think his ankle might be sprained.

“Library,” Jean tells him.  “I had a project to work on.”  He glances sideways at him, only to see green-gray eyes flick away from his face.  He can feel his cheeks warm, a stark contrast from the chilly air, under Eren’s (former) scrutiny.

“And you ditched that to bring me to the wharf?  Why?”

Jean halts, pretending to concentrate on the flat saxophone solo of a street musician, then shrugs.  He refuses to look at Eren and instead stuffs his hands in his pocket, at least for something to do.

“Ooookay, don’t answer that,” Eren mumbles irritably.  He keeps walking on, only once glancing over his shoulder.

Jean lets him draw ahead of him enough that he is once again nothing more than a silhouette, his hoodie billowing out behind him like a shadowy cape caught in the wind.  And really, he does not know what the answer to Eren’s question is, what the implications might be if he did.

His project is not due for another week and he can afford to procrastinate a bit more, but so what?  Why would _that_ compel him to approach Eren and give him a ride to the beach?

He sighs and jogs until he catches up with him, panting slightly once they are level with each other.  He watches his breath puffing out from his lips in a white cloud and shivers.

Eren smirks, inhales deeply, and opens his mouth wide to exhale, and when his cloud is proven to be bigger, Jean rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like we’re smoking, asshole.”

Eren shrugs, his smile disappearing as they finally arrive at the beach, and he sprints away from Jean, only slowing when his sneakers hit the wet sand.  He reaches down, picks something up, and hurls it into the bay.

Jean imagines he can hear the heavy plop from where he stands at the edge of the small beach.

He keeps his distance while Eren lobs rock after seashell after rock into the waves, towards the island, towards the bridge, towards a dinner cruise making its way out.  Eren does not even flinch when seagulls land near him, squawking plaintively, or even when the water creeps up the sand far enough to soak his sneakers.

As Jean watches Eren’s fury, violent yet controlled, he realizes something.

He approaches Eren, slowly so he does not startle him, and when he finally stands at his side once more, he inquires, “It’s an anniversary, huh?”

Eren, a pebble still clenched in his fist, spins around to stare at him, glaring.

Jean just appraises him out of the corner of his eye, thinking that maybe it is too soon, that maybe Eren’s anger is not yet spent, but shock replaces his doubt when Eren drops the stone in his hand and covers his face.

And although Jean has been faced with many situations that he was utterly clueless on what to do, being faced with a crying Eren is far more out of his depth.

His shoulders shake with barely contained sobs, and he sniffles, the sound slightly muffled by his hands, and Jean really has no fucking clue what to do other than watch him weep, cannot even think of something to say.

Is it not ironic then?  Jean is usually so prepared with a snappy retort, _especially_ for Eren, but now he is at an utter loss.

He inhales bracingly and reaches out to rest his hand on Eren’s shoulder.  “Hey, uh, it’s. . .”  Not okay; even Jean, who, despite his constant griping, has never suffered so much as a tragedy in his life, knows it is _not_ okay.

What would Armin and Mikasa do in this circumstance?

Jean clears his throat and awkwardly tugs Eren towards him, wrapping his arms around his thin torso.  “Sorry I mentioned it,” he mutters into his ear.

Eren shudders and sniffs one last time, apparently calming down.  Jean can feel his hands falling from his face to his sides before he hesitantly returns the embrace.  “I’m fine,” he replies.  “It’s fine.”

Jean does not say anything, just holds Eren for the moment, and now that they are hugging, even if it is only meant for comfort, he is reluctant to let go, to relinquish the temporary warmth and intimacy.

“Sorry about your project,” Eren adds after another moment.

Jean chuckles, and that is enough to break the heavy cloud surrounding them.  They step away from each other, Eren laughing through the tears still shining on his cheeks.

Then, after he catches his breath, Eren asks, “Would you believe me if I say that I’m hungry again?”

Jean spins on his heel, ready to leave the beach, then he looks over his shoulder, squinting at the glaring sunset.  “I’m not buying you anything else, so feel free to go fishing.”

“Asshole, the fish in the bay probably have two heads!”

Jean rolls his eyes and walks away from Eren.  “Not my problem!” he retorts.

“Aw, come on, _Jean_ ,” Eren whines.  “I didn’t bring my wallet.”

“Why the fuck did you go out without your fucking _wallet_?” Jean demands, incredulous.

“Do you know how dangerous this city is at night?  I didn’t want to get mugged!”

“I can’t believe this,” Jean mutters under his breath.  They’re back on the sidewalk, and he shakes sand off of his shoes.  “The _one time_ you actually care about self-preservation. . .”

“So you’ll buy me something?”  Eren raises a questioning eyebrow at him, waiting.

“Fine, fuck you,” Jean accepts, much to easily, and he will make a point to hold the cost of these two meals over Eren’s head, but he cannot help the smile that spreads over his face, especially when their fingers brush, so slightly that it is probably an accident.

Probably.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sure you can tell what the anniversary was for, ha
> 
> also i just really love the idea of jean becoming almost as attuned to eren's emotions as armin and mikasa are and them showing genuine concern for each other; i mean _that_ , at least, is fairly canon
> 
> all of my love to the person that knows what city they're in  
> (hint: days of sunlight are actually kind of rare)
> 
> (wow i really wanna write urban fantasy in that city)


End file.
